The Past Unknown
by Quill of the Scribe
Summary: Anna Carter had no idea that when she stepped into Symbology class and met Robert Langdon that it would set off a chain of events that would change both of their lives forever and reveal the true connection between them - one kept from them for 18 years.
1. I: First Day of Class

**A/N: **I'm very excited about this new story, I've had the idea for a few weeks now, and it's finally all written out. I hope you enjoy it, I thought it would be a neat original idea to try. Please try to bear with me if I'm not fast to update, I'm honestly awful at updating quickly.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer: **Robert Langdon and all of the books he's been in belong to Dan Brown, not me. I'm just messing with his life a little bit.

----

Dawn was just breaking, the golden rays of light beginning to filter through the branches and leaves of the full maple trees that were beginning to change color with the season. Anna Carter awoke from a peaceful slumber, sitting up in bed as she looked at her alarm clock through blurry eyes. A hand ran through a tangled mess of caramel-brown hair, catching on a few snags. The clock read 5:37 AM, which was perfect – she had just enough time to get ready before her classes at 7.

The day hardly felt real, and Anna's heart skipped a beat as she thought of going to classes. She was about to venture into the world of college for the first time – at one of America's most prestigious schools, no less. Anna Carter was about to attend Harvard University, almost unbelievable. It'd taken a while to grasp, although anyone who knew her immediately understood why she'd been accepted – especially Anna's mother.

_Mom._ Anna smiled slightly at the thought of her mother. Cecelia Carter had raised her daughter as a single parent, firm but caring and loving. She had gotten pregnant in her late twenties, after a short romance with a man whose name she never mentioned once. Cecelia was fiercely independent and totally determined to raise her child without any help. They'd had rough times along the way, but it had only served to make mother and daughter closer.

Anna got up from her bed, looking around the tiny bedroom in the tiny apartment she was renting in Boston. She'd grown up in a quiet town in New Hampshire, and found herself pretty familiar with Boston, as she visited the city every summer. It was one of Anna's favorite places in the world – mostly because of its historical importance, she had decided. History was one of Anna's passions. She was even planning to become a history teacher one day.

She left her bedroom, walking out into the main area of the apartment. She looked up, unsurprised to see her room-mate already up and at it. Chelsea Beckett was most decidedly a morning person, something that Anna despised greatly, even though she absolutely loved the girl. Sometimes Chelsea could just be too damned chipper, but Lisa was willing to let that slide – she could probably learn something from that, not being a morning person herself.

"Mornin', sunshine!" Chelsea greeted teasingly from the kitchen, already working on breakfast. Anna offered a half-hearted wave, making her way to the bathroom without a word. She immediately turned on the shower, and quickly undressed from her pajamas and stepped in, the heated water washing away any hint of sleepiness. She remained in the shower for a good fifteen minutes, enjoying the warmth of the running water before getting out, attempting (though not succeeding) to dry and tame her thick, tangled hair. She stared at her face in the mirror. She had pale skin, though her cheeks flushed red from the warmth of the shower. She had an oval face, a small nose, fairly thin lips. Her favorite feature was her eyes – they were a stunning blue that stood out from her mostly ordinary face. Turning away from the foggy glass, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a white blouse.

She re-emerged from the bathroom to find Chelsea eating breakfast on the couch, her eyes glued to the television set as she watched the morning news. Anna rolled her eyes, grabbing a plate from the cupboard.

"I seriously don't understand how you can watch the news. I mean, it's all war this and crime that. Why don't they have a _happy_ story every once in a while? Something about how someone did something to help the community?"

"Oh, quit it," Chelsea replied, not looking away from the TV. "They have to report the bad stuff because it's happening whether you like it or not." She speared part of a waffle with her fork. There was a short silence as Anna entered the main room, settling into an armchair.

"What's your first class?" Anna asked, trying to make a bit of conversation to ease the quiet of the room. She'd always been uncomfortable in a quiet room, and a bit of discussion always seemed to help. Besides, maybe it would drown out the latest story about a break-in somewhere in town.

"Calculus," Chelsea answered, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "I hate math, you know that? I mean, I'm never going to use half of the stuff, so what's the point of it?" Both girls looked at each other and shrugged a bit before Andrea turned the question back on Lisa.

"Symbology," Anna answered, trying to keep her excitement from becoming too evident in her voice. Chelsea looked at her curiously.

"Isn't that guy… That guy who went to the Vatican and stuff, doesn't he teach that class? What was his name again?"

"Umm… Langdon or something," Anna spoke quickly, trying not to sound too eager to answer. In truth, she'd heard a lot about Robert Langdon. She'd watched on TV as he pretty much saved the Vatican from near-destruction, and then she'd heard about some incident in France a year after that, though she hadn't totally understood that case. She had to admit to herself that the man almost sort of intrigued her. There was something about him – maybe it was his heroics, or his brains, or just the fact that he was famous now – that Anna liked about him, and she was hoping that today she would find out just what that was.

----

Anna looked around the crowded lecture hall, practically shaking with nerves. Her first thought on entering the Harvard campus was something along the lines of '_This place is huge, I'm totally going to get lost here._' She'd nearly gotten lost on the way to the class and had had to ask two strangers for directions before finding it. It was her first day of classes and she was already confused as hell.

She looked around the room at some of the students – they were talking, joking, chewing gum, writing in notebooks, wearing t-shirts. Anna felt like she stood out, wondering if she was over-dressed or something. Trying to distract herself from that, she looked down at the book on the desk in front of her.

_Symbols of the Lost Sacred Feminine by Dr. Robert Langdon. He's using his own book as a textbook? Nice._

She casually opened the back of the book, skimming through the short bio she'd read several times already. She looked at the place where he'd grown up – Exeter, New Hampshire – remembering that she'd once realized her mother had grown up in the same city and had even gone to the same school. Anna had attempted to ask her mother about it, but Cecelia would say nothing about him except that they had known each other in high school and college as well – her mother was actually just two years younger than Langdon.

At that moment, a door opened, and the packed room grew silent. Anna shut the book, forcing herself to look up, and realized that the teacher had arrived. She wasn't sure what this moment would be like, and she fought off a new wave of nerves.

However, it soon dissipated. As soon as she set eyes on Robert Langdon, Anna knew that she would like the man. He looked professional – tweed jacket, carefully combed dark hair – but at the same time, he looked friendly. A set of piercingly blue eyes scanned the silent room, and a smile formed on Langdon's lips, as though he were amused by them. Every set of eyes following him, he strode over to the blackboard, printing his name in a surprisingly neat hand.

Something seemed familiar about Langdon, like Anna had met him before or something. Was that even possible? She was fairly certain she'd never met him in person. She sighed inwardly, watching, waiting for the man to speak.

"As you probably already know, everyone, my name is Robert Langdon, and I am teaching this class." His deep voice reverberated throughout the room. "I don't care what you call me: Dr. Langdon, Professor, Mr. Langdon, I'll probably even answer to 'Hey, you', although if I were you I'd stick to a name. If you're feeling particularly brave, you can try calling me Robert, but I'd advise against that as well."

A few people in the room chuckled as the professor gave them a wry smile, setting an apple down on his desk. He leaned against the front of it casually, looking out amongst the crowd.

"And as you also know, we are here to talk about one thing, and just one thing: symbols, what they mean, where they come from. If anyone wants to talk to me about anything else, whether it's about me, or just casual conversation, I'm usually available, but try to save it for after class."

Anna smiled a bit to herself, already seeing that the man had a natural talent for speaking to people. She'd have to ask him about that sometime, maybe he could give her lessons. She found herself wondering if she could even work up the nerve to talk to him at all. He continued talking, outlining the rules, expectations, and everything else the teacher tells you on the first day of school. However, he made it a lot more interesting than most people did, and Anna watched him, already knowing that this class would be her absolute favorite.

----

Robert Langdon had entered the classroom and day feeling very energetic, more than usual. He had always enjoyed the first day of classes, because it was one of the easiest –and oftentimes, most entertaining – days of the semester. He got to know his students, they got to meet him, and they could get all the formalities out of the way to clear the way for a real teaching environment. He learned who was who in the class – the class clowns, the quiet ones, the ones who asked a million questions and always wanted to know more. And there were always the ones who stared in wonder like he was some kind of rock star. He had been in the news a lot lately, but he was first and foremost a teacher in his classroom and preferred to keep it that way.

The first thing he ever did was always introductions with the students. Who were they, where were they from, and why were they here? The introductions went smoothly, with the expected jokesters and the shy ones. But then it was one girl's turn, and apparently she was paying no attention. Instead, she was reading the book – Langdon's book, because he'd figured that it would be an interesting way to start. She didn't even seem to notice how the class had turned silent, a few people murmuring to each other. Langdon chuckled to himself, and stepped forward until he was directly in front of her desk, casting a shadow over her.

She looked up, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment. Langdon found himself looking into a pair of blue eyes very similar to his own, though they widened with a 'deer-in-the-headlights' sort of look. Langdon was surprised at how familiar her face looked. Even subtle details seemed so familiar, like he had seen her _somewhere_. He shook the though, looking at the girl for another short moment before giving her a sort of half-smile.

"I do appreciate reading in my class, especially when it's the classroom text, but I'd also appreciate it if I could have your full and undivided attention, alright?"

"Sorry, sir," She stammered a bit, and Langdon smiled again.

"And you don't have to call me sir, either. That's totally up to you, but you don't have to."

The teen in front of him nodded mutely, seeming to be struck wordless, either in some sort of fear or surprise.

"Would you mind telling us your name?" Langdon asked, making his way to the front of the classroom, picking up the apple from the front of his desk and tossing it up in the air before taking a bite, all the while keeping his eyes on the obviously nervous girl, who fidgeted a bit in her chair and avoided his gaze.

"Anna," she said in a voice barely above a loud whisper. "Anna Carter."

_Carter. That explains a lot. At least why she looked so familiar, anyway. She's got her mothers face. Must have her father's eyes, though._

Langdon gave her a smile and a nod.

"Well then, welcome to symbology class, Anna Carter."

----

"Did you have a good first day?"

Anna smiled to herself, sprawled out across her bed, her pen paused mid-word. She could still sense warmth in her mother's voice, even through the tinny-sounding speakers of the phone. She nodded, even though no one could see it.

"Yeah, I guess so." She started writing again, not looking up from the page she was working on. "I didn't get lost, if that's what you mean."

Her mother chuckled softly. "Congratulations. But really, how was it? Everything okay? You and Carrie settled in?"

"Everything is fine, Mom, don't worry about it. Carrie and I are fine. The classes will be fine, I guess. Most of the teacher seemed nice. Except for the math guy, but what do you expect?" She shrugged a bit and sighed, brushing some hair from her face. She paused briefly. "You know, I really do miss you."

"I know, baby, I miss you too, so much. You can come to visit some weekend, can't you?"

"Of course I can." Anna smiled genuinely. "I'm never too busy to come see you, you know that." There was another brief pause, and Anna bit her tongue, trying to restrain herself. Sighing, she slowly spoke anyway. "Can't you tell me something about Langdon, though? You knew him, but you never talk about him."

Cecelia gave an exasperated sigh. "Not tonight, Anna, really. It doesn't matter."

"Why do you always dance around it like that? What, it's not like you _slept together_ or something, did you?"

"Annalisa!" Cecelia's sharp tone cut the air like a knife, and Anna winced. She recognized that tone, and had come to instinctually fear it. "That's hardly the kind of question you should be asking, it's not any of your business."

"Oh my God, you did!" Anna nearly dropped her pen. "That's so… weird! So creepy! I'm never going to get that image out of my head, Mom, oh God…"

"Anna, it's really not your business what Robert and I did and did not do." It was the first time Anna had heard her call him by his first name. "You should focus on what you're studying, not your teacher's private lives, past or present."

Anna deflated, still trying to erase the terribly strange (and slightly disturbing) image from her brain.

"Fine. But you're going to have to tell me sooner or later, you know. I'll get it out of you eventually, you can't avoid it forever." There was a pause from the other end of the line, a heavy sigh, then Cecelia spoke at last.

"I'll call you back later, Anna, I have work to do, and I'm getting a migraine, I should just…"

"Okay, Mom." She rolled her eyes, flipping over onto her back to look at the ceiling. She spoke to the air. "I love you."

"Love you too. Have a good day."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye."

Anna reached over, switching the speaker-phone off and hanging up the phone. She sat there for a few moments, still wondering what else her mother had hidden from her. It was obvious now that Anna had struck a nerve, and that Cecelia had a past with a certain symbologist that she didn't want to discuss. And Anna was suddenly determined to find once and for all just what that past was.

----

Cecelia had been against Anna's entering symbology from the start. She knew what repercussions it might have, what she would have to tell her ever-curious daughter. She knew the inevitable questions would come up, and she'd eventually have no choice but to answer. After all, Anna was 18 now; she could legally do as much digging into the past as she wanted to.

Cecelia Carter wasn't honestly afraid of what her daughter might find; there were just a few things that she didn't want Anna to know. Sooner or later, Anna would wonder about something – someone – whose name she had never even been told in her life. She would dig, and the truth would come out. She would hunt him down, and she would tell him, and that was one thing that Cecelia dreaded the most.

And Anna would eventually find out that the answer to her question was right in front of her eyes.

----

**A/N: **Well, I wonder if anyone here can see where this is going… If you do see it, try not to spoil it for anyone else just yet, it'll all be explained sooner or later.

I'm really hoping I have Robert in character, since we don't get to see him as 'Robert the teacher' very often in the books. I thought it was pretty close to what Robert might be like, trying to have a bit of fun with his class while still keeping a learning atmosphere.

Please review, thank you for reading!


	2. II: Question With No Answers

**Hooray for chapter two! Thanks for reading, everyone.**

**Disclaimer: Only Anna, Celia, and this plot are mine**

**---**

For the next few weeks, Anna was unable to get much more from her mother than she already knew. She had to hand it to her, though – Cecelia Carter had a damn strong will when she wanted to. She wouldn't budge an inch on the subject, and Anna decided to drop it for the time being. She could always ask later, at a time when she couldn't dodge the questions. For now, though, Anna would simply pretend she hadn't heard a thing, although she tried to go over it all in her head and figure out how it made any sort of sense.

It was especially hard to ignore the thoughts of Langdon and her mother together while she was in his class, and she found it somewhat distracting, though she nearly forgot everything once she got into the lesson. Robert Langdon was a captivating teacher, and the students all seemed to enjoy his class. Anna had heard a few people call him 'The Dolphin', although she had no idea of what that meant except that he liked to swim. Still, even though he could be strict, he was a fun teacher and his students accepted him, almost like he was one of them.

He also had a great way of explaining things like Anna had never experienced before. He could take a complicated explanation and make it radically simply, which was an amazing thing to Anna. One day, she had found herself talking to him after class, and he had asked why she was taking symbology.

"Well…" She'd bit her lip, only half sure how to respond. "I want to try to do something in art. I'm not sure what yet, but something artistic. If all else fails, I guess I could try doing something like you do, though I don't really like history that much…"

Langdon raised his eyebrows, an amused smirk appearing to be tugging at his lips. "You're taking a class on the history of symbols, talking to someone who's basically an art historian, and you say you don't like history that much?"

"Not really…" Anna trailed off, her cheeks going slightly red, wondering if she'd done something wrong, maybe said the wrong words? But by the way he seemed to be smiling at her, he didn't seem upset; more like intrigued, or maybe even amused by her.

"Why don't you like it?" He prodded on, looking up at her from behind his desk with a firm but kind gaze. Anna momentarily felt her breath get caught in her throat as she looked back at him. Something about him had struck her. He didn't feel like a teacher at all, though he definitely looked the part. There was something in his eyes, some sort of spark that Anna couldn't place, like a sort of connection.

"I…" Her head spun, and she realized she had momentarily forgotten the entirety of the conversation. "I don't see the point to it. History is… All in the past. I don't see why we have to study it if it's all behind us now."

Langdon smiled a bit, folding his hands on top of the desk. "Well, Anna, look at it this way; did you ever get hurt as a kid? Maybe scraped your knees while you rode your bike or burned yourself on something hot?"

"Yeah…" Anna was confused; the question seemed kind of random, and she wasn't sure what that had to do with the topic. "Everyone has…Why?"

"Well, imagine you forgot about those things right after they happened. Wouldn't they just keep happening if you didn't stop to learn from them?" He smiled again, raising his eyebrows slightly as if to punctuate the point. Anna nodded slightly, understanding now. "That's the basically the essence of why we study our history – because the mistakes of yesterday will become the mistakes of tomorrow if we don't learn anything from them today."

Anna realized she had never thought of it that way – it was a brilliant point made pretty simple. She smiled at the professor, and he smiled back, and she somehow knew that when they got down to it, the two would get along just fine.

---

Her conversations with the symbologist became a daily occurrence as Anna settled into the school year. She found she always had a question or comment about the lesson (or anything else, really) and the professor always had a comment or an answer for her in return.

One day, she found herself unable to stop herself, and her mother's name had come out. Langdon, who had been writing on his blackboard, had frozen, his chalk stopping mid-word. He slowly set the chalk back in the tray and turned around to face Anna. For the first time, she could feel his professional exterior crack ever so slightly. The question about her mother had hit him on a personal level, as Anna had almost guessed (or hoped) it would.

"Yeah, I knew her." He nodded. "We went to high school together, and college. We were…" He looked unsure of how to phrase it, and his shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he exhaled. "We were close."

"How close?"

Langdon looked her in the eyes for a moment, and Anna felt a chill roll down her spine. He turned back to the chalkboard, now writing with a bit more intensity. She wondered if he would ever answer her question, but he eventually spoke up, not looking away from the board.

"I don't know if that's really for me to say, Anna. It was a long time ago, and that's sort of a personal thing to me. I might be a friend or former friend of your mother's, but I'm your teacher first." He turned, his eyes boring into hers. His gaze was strict but looked slightly pained, as if he wanted to say something but decided not to. "Don't you have a class to get to?"

"…Yes, sir." Anna muttered softly, half-regretting what she'd said already. It had seemed like a harmless question thirty seconds ago, but now she realized it was much more loaded than she'd originally thought. She turned to walk away, but not before she heard the professor's eyes watching her, and his deep baritone speaking behind her.

"You look a lot like her, you know that?"

She turned back, seeing complete sincerity in Langdon's eyes. He half-smiled, giving a slight nod and murmuring, almost more to himself than to her, it seemed.

"In everything except those eyes…"

---

Anna felt like the more questions she asked, the fewer answers she seemed to get, no matter who she asked. And frankly, she was tired of not getting any answers. She started with the question that she believed would be the easier to answer – who was her father? Her mother had only said once that he wasn't around anymore. Anna had interpreted that to mean he was dead, but she couldn't really be sure of anything like that anymore, not in today's world. All she had to do was go back home and get a copy of her birth certificate. And she was eighteen, that would be simple enough, right?

Several forms of ID proving she was really who she said she was and one computer printout later, she had her answer. She looked down at the printout in her hand and almost forgot how to breathe from the shock of it. She wondered how she'd never suspected it before… It made perfect sense now. She thought back on it all and shuddered a bit. It'd been there all along… And she'd never known.

Anna had torn out of the place in rush, in her car and at her mother's house before she could rationalize. She turned her key in the lock with fumbling hands and pushed the door open. She saw Cecelia standing in the kitchen doorway her mouth agape. She only made it to "Anna, wha-" before Anna was in the kitchen, holding up the certificate at her mothers eyelid, speaking only three words that came out in a strangled, almost angry voice.

"Explain this. Now."

**---**

**Oh dear, well, what did she find? We'll find out in the next chapter, right? **

**And please review, guys! I'd like to know if the story is great or awful to help with my writing! Please tell me what you think! **


	3. III: The Truth from the Lies

**So yeah... This is really late. And not so great. It's mostly filler, but it answers some questions. I'm trying to build to the plot part, it'll eventually get there!**  
**---**

_29-year-old Cecelia Carter stood under a dark blue umbrella, her eyes scanning the crowd of first graders that was slowly beginning to emerge from the tiny little brick building that was her daughter's elementary school. Anna was usually one of the last students out of the school, and the reasons varied from day to day. Cecelia looked down at her watching, knowing that she had to get Anna home, out of the rain, before any mud puddles became involved. Anna was the adventurous little one, and that could end in a minor disaster, especially since the 6-year-old was wearing white today._

_Finally, Cecelia spotted her daughter and called out to her. Anna smiled happily and dashed towards her, holding onto one of her mother's legs. Cecelia was a lawyer, and it was not often that she was out of work in time to fetch her daughter from school – she usually spent the afternoon with a friend until Cecelia got off._

"_Mommy!" Anna smiled her gap-toothed smile, her big blue eyes shining. Cecelia reached down and took Anna's hand, chatting with the little girl about all that had happened during her day as they walked toward the van. Apparently it had been Career Day, and she'd learned all about the things the other kids' parents did at work. _

"_Jennie brought her dad in, he's a firefighter." She paused, seeming a bit confused about something. "A lot of the kids brought their dads." Then she looked up, her eyes meeting Cecelia's in the rearview mirror. "Why don't I have a dad?"_

_Cecelia jumped a bit at the question, accidentally hitting the brake just long enough for the van to give a violent lurch. She held tighter to the steering wheel, trying to look away from her daughter's eyes. She knew it would come up sooner or later, but she was actually surprised it hadn't been sooner than this._

"_He's not around anymore." Cecelia answered gently, hoping it would be dropped._

"_What do you mean? Where'd he go?" Her eyes got wide and round with shock. "Did he _die?"

_Cecelia bit her lip and sighed. _

"_Yes." She fibbed, almost speaking too quickly. Anna didn't seem to notice though, and just looked a little sad. "A long time ago, before you were born."_

"_Oh." She looked out the window at the rain, and was silent for a while. The questions stopped, and Cecelia looked at her in the rearview again, almost longing to tell her daughter the truth. But what would she say? There wasn't really anything she could say, except that it was her own fault that Anna had no father. For the first time in almost seven years, Cecelia felt a twinge of remorse, but she forced it out of her mind and tried to put on a smile for her daughter. It would be better for them all if she simply kept it to herself. For now._

**---**

Cecelia could read the anger in her daughter's face as her eyes shifted slowly from the birth certificate to Anna's face. The forty year-old ran a hand through her light brown hair and looked out the window – it was raining. Anna stood firmly in place, still holding up the paper, waiting for a response. Cecelia opened her mouth, as if to speak, but closed it again, exhaling.

"I knew you would go looking sooner or later. I just didn't know it'd be quite _this _soon."

Anna put down her arm, her eyes cold. "You lied to me."

"I never lied to you!" Cecelia retorted, walking back to the kitchen and wiping her hands on a towel. Anna looked frustrated.

"You told me my father was _dead_!" She exclaimed, her voice cracking as though she were close to tears, and Cecelia could see the blue eyes pooling, even from a distance. "If that's not a lie, then what is, Mom?" She stood still, her eyes trailing her mother's every move.

"Mom…" Anna's voice cracked again. "Please. I need to know. I deserve to know. The truth. No more lies. No more dodging. I want a clear explanation. When, how, and why."

Cecelia sighed, setting down the dish towel she held in her hands, her eyes wandering to the window. She knew she couldn't win this time. And Anna was right – she deserved to know everything. And Cecelia _had_ lied, but it was for a good reason. She didn't want Anna to know – it would make things harder, it would open wounds that Cecelia wanted to keep closed, and stay that way. But now there was no choice. Those wounds were open, and she knew that eventually they'd start bleeding again.

"We started dating in his senior year in high school," Cecelia began. She tucked her long hair behind her ear and slowly sat on the couch, looking at her daughter through clear eyes. "He was 18, I was 16. It wasn't really wrong… He…" She paused slightly, as though wincing at saying his name. "He made sure that nothing happened between the two of us until the day I turned 18. He was good that way… And I decided to go to the same school as him, in Exeter, so we could stay together. And we did, until I was about twenty two. We'd been…" Cecelia bit her lips ever so slightly. "Well, I guess you can figure that out yourself. And then I found out that I was pregnant. And I panicked. We were both pretty young, still in school… I broke up with him the same day. I knew that if I told him, he'd want to take responsibility for it. That's just who he was. And I didn't want him to, honestly. It was selfish and stupid and I shouldn't have done it, but I broke it off... He had such a bright future, I didn't want him to give it all up for me… I haven't seen or spoken to him since."

Anna looked at her mother in disbelief. She had not only slept with her professor… They had dated for almost six years. And then she'd broken it off with him, so suddenly… She could suddenly imagine why they wouldn't talk about each other or answer any of her questions. She looked at Cecelia, still in mild shock about everything, and gently touched her hand.

"So you broke up… because of me?"

"No, no, or course not." Cecelia shook her head. "We broke up because of _me, _baby. I was afraid to tell him, so the only other option I could see was leaving. If I stayed, he'd figure it out eventually. And I just couldn't bring myself to tell him…"

"… But why didn't you ever tell me? Don't you think I wanted, I _needed_ to know?" Anna seemed frustrated, like she couldn't wrap her head around it. Cecelia noted to herself that even that was reminiscent of her father. Not understanding something was extremely frustrating for both of them.

"I know, I should've said something… But I just couldn't… I wanted to, you should've known. I just couldn't get myself to tell you because of all the questions I knew you'd ask. I knew you'd want the answers, and it would hurt too much to give them…" Cecelia gently touched Anna's face, cupping her daughter's chin in her hand. "I'm sorry."

Anna shook her head mutely, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Don't." She whispered softly, falling into her mother's arms. "Don't be sorry." Cecelia embraced her daughter, tenderly stroking her hair.

The minutes passed slowly, and finally Anna seemed to calm down. She looked at her mother, her eyes holding a mission. It almost seemed that some of her previous anger had returned.

"I want to tell him." She whispered again, her voice now filled with passion. "He should know."

Celia looked at her daughter, with pain in her eyes, but didn't make any objections. "He should." She agreed quietly. "But… Let me be the one to tell him, okay? It's my fault he doesn't know… I want to be the one to change that."

Anna nodded, then stood up, pulling on her coat. "Let's go."

"_Go?_" The older woman blinked in surprise looking at the clock. "I… Now?"

"Why not?" Anna shrugged. "You've waited 18 years. He's waited 18 years to hear _why_. I think that's long enough for both you."

Her mother stared at the ceiling, biting her lip, then finally stood, grabbing her own coat as well. "18 years is a long time," she nodded. The teen smiled and hugged her mother, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Thank you."

Cecelia breathed but said nothing, mentally preparing herself for the biggest challenge of her life. She'd keep this a secret for 18 years, now it was time to bring it out in the open. But inwardly, the woman was terrified of seeing him again. She didn't know what could possibly happen when she walked in that room and saw his face. Maybe he wouldn't even remember. Something told her, though, that he had remembered.

Robert Langdon always remembered.


End file.
